ASSAULTED! A Detective Roscamp Tale
by CI-KiteWolfling-NYPD
Summary: The Captain and I both agree: Ten dead seven year olds is reason enough to get out of my chair, and out on a lazy Saterday. What would normally have been a pretty calm weekend turns into a harrowing adventure for me and Ell!
1. Awakened from Sleep

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My cell phone rang, waking me up, as it often does. I made several valiant attempts to sit up, and get out of the bag, then gave up. Flopping back into it's warm embrace, I dug around in my pocket, took the phone out, and flipped it open.

"Darlene here."

"Hey kid." It was the Captain, "I Hope you're not to busy to help out with a homicide."

"Nah, never!" I grunted, throwing myself out of the beanbag. I managed to stagger to my feet, "What's going on?"

"Ten dead bodies is what's going on." Don said with his usual frankness. I stumbled into the kitchen, and scrawled a note to my mom, who was at the store, and wouldn't be back till much later. As I pulled some shoes on, and started to hunt for a coat, I asked, "Rape kit?"

"Negative."  
"Ok…well, then, how did SVU get the case?"

"Darlene…none of our victims are over seven years old."

I froze right in the middle of pulling a sweatshirt over my head. I must have looked pretty foolish, with my arms over my head, which was engulfed in folds of fabric…but I didn't care.

I sighed deeply, and pulled the thing down, and stuffed my arms into it, sadness rushing through me.

"Did you ID them?" I questioned heavily

"Benson and Munch are at Warners office with a couple pairs of possible parents, and they said they'd call as soon as …you know…Fin is out at the Missing Persons Department, seeing if anyone filed a report…"

"And Elliot?"

"On his way to pick you up." I was told. Don sighed, "This is big. It actually went down a few days ago, Warner thinks that time of death was a lot farther back then when we found the bodies…"

"Any suspects?" I asked, stepping out onto the porch.

"Ya, Elliot is on his way to take you to the Cashman manor."

"Should I even ask?"

"Not right now."


	2. Shatterglass

_I fully admit that the last chapter was crap, but please please please forgive me, and bear with me. I am writing all of the stories you see on fanfic during break at School, and I know I should never compromise the quality of my work, but I AM SO SORRY! Hopefully, this chapter is a little less rushed, and a lot better than the last! _

_CI-KiteWolfling-NYPD_

"Ok, kid, you know the drill.." Ell threw over the hood of the car at me as he slammed the drivers ride door shut, "At the first sign of trouble you split!"  
"Yeah, yeah, I know!" I muttered mutinously. Elliot was in a dangerous mood, and wasn't all that thrilled about having to take me along to the Cashman manor to make an arrest. If he could have had it his way, I would be sitting in the car but…ah..well…I wasn't all for that. I knew better than to push the guy, however, so as we walked up the lengthy driveway to the monster house, I stayed at least ten feet behind him.

"I don't even know how I got landed with you for the afternoon, at any rate!" Elliot snarled, and I winced. OK, he was REALLY mad. It was only once in a while that he got mad enough to treat me like a little kid on a ride-along as opposed to a partner.

Maybe there was more to this Erik Cashmere guy than meets the outrageously large house, and ornamental cats hanging on the porch as we stepped up.

"Erik Cashman!" Elliot demanded, pounding on the door to the manor, "Open up! Police!"

There was no response. I glanced sideways at Elliot. I dearly wanted to say, "Well, maybe he heard us coming and stepped out for a little walk." But in the mood Elliot was in, I would likely get punched through the door.

"Follow." Elliot commanded, walking around the veranda until we came to the backyard. The feeling that this was an old retired guy escalated when I saw all the interesting bird baths and bird houses scattered about, not to mention the rather….unique sculptures.

Once again I held my tongue, regarding questions about our guy, and took a few steps back as Elliot picked up a softball sized rock from the rock garden surrounding a pretty pink stone fountain.

"Stand back." He ordered, striding towards one of the manors many picture windows. He drew his arm back, and before I could form a word of protest, he swung it around, and smashed the window.

Long, spidering cracks appeared on the glass, lancing to and fro. The window had cracked, but was not broken. Elliot growled something to himself, took a step back, and winged the projectile at the cracked window with the speed of a major league pitcher, and the finesse of a butcher.

_CRASH!_

_"_There she goes!" Elliot said mildly, as though what he had done was perfectly normal, not to mention legal.

I glanced around the large fenced in backyard rather nervously, just waiting for some eccentric neighbor to leap out of nowhere with a broom or something, yelling, "What in tarnation are you kids doing?" There was no such thing, but I still felt that I had to say something.

"I bet they heard that back at the station house, Ell!" I grumbled, turning. He wasn't there.

"Elliot?"

He stuck his head out of the house. Evidentially he had snuck in when I was out on weird neighbor patrol.

"Normally I would tell you to stay outside," He said flatly, offering me a hand as I awkwardly tried to pull myself into the house through the window, "But I have a feeling that your violent reaction to that idea would be heard from over a mile away."

"Fuh-nee…" I said, coming to rest inside what appeared to be a pantry to the house of some kind. I stepped gingerly on the broken glass, which was scattered everywhere in a bizarre pattern, "And gee, that was sure the most subtle way to get in here…."

"Shut up!" Elliot demanded. He pulled his gun from it's holster, and opened the door to the rest of the house, me tagging along at a safer distance.


	3. A shot in the dark

For what must have been the first time in my brief history with Elliot, I heeded his advice. I kept my trap shut, and my eyes open as he darted to and fro on the first floor, checking to see that each and every room was clear.

"Bedroom clear-that's the first floor." Elliot said in a low voice, probably more to himself than me. I felt pretty useless, standing there like an idiot in the kitchen, "You get downstairs, and I'll get upstairs."

"Great idea, Elliot." I said delicately. He missed the sarcasm, nodded, and vanished into the dark.

It was incredibly lightless in the house. I wanted to turn the lights on in the kitchen, but I couldn't find the switch. I wandered around, and to my joy I found it. As I flicked it on, light flooded the room, and I felt slightly less….i dunno…weirded out?

How in the world was I supposed to find the basement? I mean, OK, there has to be a stairwell somewhere! I pulled open a suspicious looking door, and was greeted by various brooms, and a terrible smell that I normally equated with something that has been rotting.

I decided not to investigate, even thought that's what I am sorta supposed to be doing…(My eyes were watering, so I wrote it off as, 'Unapproachable; and moved on)

I went around to the other side of the room, and this time more cautiously pulled open another door. This time there were indeed stairs. I gave myself a figurative pat on the back, and descended.

The temperature got considerably cooler. Once again, the room was bathed in darkness. I groped around on the side of the wall for a light, and managed to find one. Breathing a sigh of relief (Gee, I really am a wimp) I flicked it on.

I was disappointed. Only one small, weak light screwed into the ceiling would be my source of comfort. I turned my head from side to side, taking the room in. It was a comfortably furnished basement, with white carpeting, a large screen TV, and other oddities that you wouldn't normally see…like…was that a fertility statue?

"Gak." I muttered. I paced around the room slowly, assuming that there wasn't any one hiding any where. Then I decided to actually do my job. I pulled open a random door, and found that it led to a bathroom. There was nothing overly remarkable about that room, and I really hoped that Elliot would have found something to make up for my nothingness..

"Hey, what did you-"

"AHH!!!" I whipped around, pulling my six inch blade from it's sheath against my side, and found myself face to face with Elliot Stabler.

"Would you please relax?!" he said, grabbing my wrists. I felt a red flush rise on my cheeks. I don't know what it was, but I was so high-strung all of a sudden.

"Cashman's not any where upstairs that I could find." Elliot continued, "Find anything down here?"

"Nope." I said, returning the knife to it's place. I took a few steps towards the door, and immediately recoiled.

"Ahh….great. I stepped on something wet…."

"Give me your knife!" Elliot ordered, his brow furrowed. He looked as though my stepping in a wet pool was drastically important to our case. I wasn't one to ignore a direct order from my volatile partner, so I handed over my wicked six incher, and he handed me his nine mill.

"Hold this." He grunted, squatting down on the ground.

I had a mad urge to laugh. Elliot was giving _me _a gun? I watched curiously as he placed the knife on the carpet, and dragged it to the left, making a foot long or so cut in the carpet. He did the same for another side, creating a nice ninety degree angle.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

"Following a hunch." He said, not sparing me a glance. I watched as he dragged the knife up again, cutting a third side into the square. My brow furrowed.

"OK…and, well, how's that working out for ya?"

"Do we pay you to ask questions, kid?" Elliot spat, defiantly not in the mood.

I thought about it for a moment, long and hard, "Yes, Ell, yes you do. I'm a detective, remember? Oh yeah, and..uh…you guys don't pay me."

With brute strength, Elliot didn't even bother making his last cut. He just ripped out a nice little square of expensive white carpet.

"That look like what I think it is?" Elliot asked, pointing at a crimson stain on the dark wood. I squatted down next to him, and peered intently at where Elliot was indicating. It sure looked like blood to me, if that was what Elliot thought it was.

"If you think it's red wine, Ell, then you're wrong."

At that moment, Elliot fixed me with his most penetrating glare, one that screamed, 'cut it out.' I decided to lay off on the funny stuff for a little while, and I said quickly, "Yes, I think it's blood."

"Good." Elliot rose to his feet, a look of satisfaction on his face, "For one I'd like to get a criminal that's actually got a brain in his head. Cashman might have tried to clean up the blood…"

"Hold on!" I said, frowning, "When we stopped at the Station on the way here, Munch said that the kids were found at Ramble Park! Why-"

"Don't you listen?" Elliot growled, shoving his hands in his pockets, "M.E Warner said that the kids weren't killed at the park, and CSU agrees. It was a dump stop!"

"So…this blood stain is another piece of evidence to convict Cashman?"

"You got it, kid." Elliot said, grinning triumphantly, "Sometimes I love this job."

"Hate to burst your bubble, but what if the blood types don't match?"

"Either way we have enough to put this in jail for a good long while. Elliot did some rooting."

I sighed, "How much investigation went into this case before you pulled me in?"

"Quite a lot." Elliot pulled out his cell, "We need to lock this place down, and get NYCSU over here, now."

Then all at once it happened. The lights went out, and there was that sickening crack of a pistol.


End file.
